


Axxess & Ace

by softwinds



Category: What We Do in the Shadows (TV)
Genre: Angst, Character Development, Future Fic, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Season/Series 02, technically a songfic, ya boy's first angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:15:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26275492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softwinds/pseuds/softwinds
Summary: He once had a choice. Guillermo preferred to think so, at least, that he could have steered destiny on his own. He could have chosen the wetland, the cattail and the dragonfly, whose stilled wings he’d trap with his beak, and he’d have the choice to swallow or let go.-Guillermo is turned but not by Nandor. It might be better this way.
Relationships: Guillermo de la Cruz/Nandor the Relentless
Comments: 6
Kudos: 29





	Axxess & Ace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first attempt in writing angst. I've been listening to a lot of [Jason Molina](https://open.spotify.com/artist/4tBNwdhdWAXGzzaPTp9dRE) recently and it inspired me to write something short and emotional. I'll still write&post other works in the meantime :>
> 
> Each chapter will be based on a song by Jason Molina (or his various bands), and the first one is [Thistle Blue](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f9lmZJ4BPyU).

He once had a choice. Guillermo preferred to think so, at least, that he could have steered destiny on his own. He could have chosen the wetland, the cattail and the dragonfly, whose stilled wings he’d trap with his beak, and he’d have the choice to swallow or let go.

For the better part of his 20s, he always thought that he’d be turned by Nandor. He planned to get a nice haircut, to clear up his skin, to have a last sip of Kahlúa Sour and readily welcome the dark sequel of life. Fantasies once pranced in his dreams— the ones about being bitten or being kissed, before he pulled his gaze away from that world. He imagined it to be tender and passionate and sweet and bruising. He imagined it to be loving, more than anything. 

But Guillermo never felt those lips. He never will, and they both know it.

Pain is shattering the frame of his bones.

He walks— or wanders, or eludes, from somewhere far and distant to a destination he no longer knows. He aimlessly drags his legs forward, steps languid. His arms tremble. There is blood on his face and shirt, already lost its warmth in the past few hours, now cinching his skin like hardened scabs. He isn’t sure if it comes from his veins.

“Guillermo?” And he turns his head fast, almost tripping over, but the smooth, familiar voice is only a fabrication by his brain. The night is eerily quiet— everything around him has fled, or perhaps it’s his own sanity failing— Guillermo wouldn’t be surprised either way. He is still clenching the broken, tinted stake in his palm, and the splinters needle under his skin like a nest of snakes.

Oh, he is bitten, but not on his hands. The vampire sought for his neck. Guillermo just had to be caught off guard by some nameless midnight-snacker, just after he stopped wishing for the absurd, o _f fucking course_. He remembers the scent of cold, hard soil slammed against his face, pointed nails dug into his flesh, and the endlessly sinking _fangs_. When he wriggled his arm free and pierced through the night walker’s heart, the liquid fell on his nose and lips were of a bitter monotone. He coughed as it ran down his throat.

He isn’t able to get the new haircut, after all. When he realizes the place he’s led to— by the cruel humor of his subconsciousness, he shakes away the thought of Kahlúa Sour as well. He hasn’t stood here in weeks. Their ending was too ugly, too much hissing and god-awful cursing ( _“Stop talking gibberish at me! What else do you want, Guillermo!”_ ). He’s surprised to find that small square of window open, and the sitting silhouette dark on those draped curtains. 

“Nandor!” He yells.

“What,” A head peeks out. “It is very impolite to—”

And the movement is cut short. The vampire just freezes there like a mannequin, jaws open and eyes confused.

“Nandor!” Guillermo cups his hands around his mouth. He has no idea why the hell he’s doing this. His head is spinning, and it feels so good to have that name sitting on his tongue and exhausting the last bit of his strength like the good old days. “Can you hear me?”

“Yes, yes, Guillermo,” the idiot frowns. “I can hear you! What are you doing here? Are you—are you drunk? Did you go to a concert again?”

He yells once more, voice tearing. “Nandor! Can you— ”

“I said yes, Guillermo.”

“— Can you hear me now?”

“Hey,” Guillermo watches as Nandor’s shoulder drops. He pulls the curtains apart and sticks his upper body out, voice soft and almost concerned. “Do you want to come in?”

It almost makes him hesitate. But around him is only wilderness and he is a blind cat, his heart all too brittle to handle another fruitless chase.

Nandor asks but never listens, and they both know it.

“Can you,” It’s all he wants to say. “Can you hear me?” It’s the last question before bidding goodbye. “Can you hear me now?” But the time is too late, Guillermo understands, and finds himself laughing like a madman. His nose is sore but his eyes are blurry and dry, fire on Mount Vesuvius now scathing his chest without a drop of mercy. He can’t feel his own breath anymore. He’s turning or slipping away, if there is any difference between them.

He’ll miss the sun.

“I— Guillermo?” 

“Farewell.” He smiles and allows his body to fall. Before his back knocks against the ground, the world expands and the night sky pulls away. Guillermo bats his wings and flies. On his flight he hears nothing else besides gliding winds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank u for reading! Kudos and comments are so so welcomed!


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